


Masters of Our Own Fate

by itsreallylizzy



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylizzy/pseuds/itsreallylizzy
Summary: During the height of the red scare a struggling comedian notices a woman that comes in to the Cafe he performs at every day without fail. As he becomes closer to her and learns more about her life they begin to fall in love, while she begins to question the nature of her husbands life and what secrets he hides from her.





	1. Mystery Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Slow burn but I'm not Jane Austen

She walked in every night at 9 pm on the dot. He had asked the waitress, Sally, if the woman was here Monday, Tuesday, and Sunday, the days he wasn’t around, and she had said yes. From the stage he looked at her, trying to make eye contact with her. She was always dressed nicely, different outfits everyday, and ordered exactly three drinks in the hour and a half she was there. She always left at 10:30 on the dot, as if she had somewhere else to be.

He had to admit, he was obsessed with her. Not in a weird way, but he was curious. He wanted to know more about her: who she was, her name, why she came to the Roman’s Cafe for an an hour and a half every day, monday through sunday. 

As he stood there, giving his routine, hearing the laughs around the room, he looked at the woman and his mind wandered back to the wondering who she was. 

“You did good today, lots of laughs,” Sally said as he walked off the stage. He smiled at her and walked over to the bar. He sat at one of the stools to watch the next act. It was one of the regular folk singers, he was kind of an asshole but he made the whole folk singer thing work, so he decided to stick around and listen. In front of him sat the mystery woman. She was dressed in a rich, dark purple dress, complete with a purple pillbox hat. There was an empty seat next to her and in a moment of bravery he moved down to the seat next to hers.

“What do you think of Lou?” he asked her.

She turned to him, surprised that he sat down next to her. In all the days she had gone to the Roman’s Cafe, no one had ever sat next to her. She cleared her throat and replied, “He sings here often. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Is he trying to avoid you?”

He gave her a lopsided smile and said, “We’ve had a couple disagreements but Lou’s a good guy. He’s one of the three folk singers I don’t hate.”

She laughed softly. “I suppose it’s a coincidence you perform on different days then.”

He took a sip from his drink. “Well, we’re both here today and he comes to support a friend on Fridays so we see each other enough. But the original question still stands, do you think he’s good?”

She picked up her drink and finished it, thinking about her answer. When she put it down she turned toward him and smiled smugly. “I think he’s good. For a folk singer at least. What do you think?”

He chuckled. “I don’t mind Lou. He has a good voice, does that whole singing thing well. Shame he wastes it on folk music.”

“You really have it out for folk music huh?” she laughed.  
“Oh yeah. I’m coming to get them,” he said. “You dare me to heckle him?”

She grinned. “I dare you to heckle him.”

He laughed and winked at her, and as he stood up he whispered to her, “One heckle coming up.”

She giggled quietly.

“HEY LOU! YOUR SINGING SUCKS!” he yelled standing. The woman laughed and covered it up by drinking from her new drink. 

Lou stopped singing and looked over at the laughing man and yelled back, “Fuck off Vincent!”. 

Vincent sat back down, laughing, and Lou continued singing. Vincent and the woman continued giggling and throughout his singing Lou glared at Vincent occasionally. 

While the poet, another singer, and a guitar player went up, Vincent continued talking to the mystery woman. She was funny and witty, which Vincent liked in her. For a while he had forgotten that she left when it was ten thirty and until she got up to leave.

She looked at the watch on her hand and stood up to leave. “I’m sorry to cut our time short Vincent but it’s time for me to leave.” She put on her coat and he rapidly stood up.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

She smiled, “That’s because I didn’t say it.” She nodded politely and left the cafe, leaving Vincent standing there, with even more questions about her. 

He watched her leave and when she was completely gone, he sat back down and ordered a beer. He wasn’t alone for long though, after a few minutes he was joined by Lou. 

“Got clutched huh?” Lou asked Vincent with a grin. 

Vincent scoffed. “You wish. She just had to go home.”

Lou looked at Vincent and asked him seriously, “Did you get her name at least?”

Vincent sighed. “No,” he mumbled to the ground.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” Vincent replied smugly. 

Vincent huffed. “I said no. No, I did not get her name, no. Ya happy?”

Lou put a smug smile on his face. “It’s called karma my friend. It’s what you get for heckling me, really.”

Vincent wrinkled his nose and put down his drink. “I’m going home. Tell Sally to tell Michael I’ll be here tomorrow.”

As Vincent made his way to the door, Lou yelled at him, “I’M SURE YOU’LL GET THE GIRL NEXT TIME VINNIE!”

Vincent heard Lou’s laugh as he left the cafe and shivered as the cold New York air greeted him. He hailed a cab and on the way home, the only thing he could think about was the mystery woman once again.


	2. Life At Home

She closed the door quietly after entering the apartment. It was late, and her husband didn’t want there to be any noise that could cause them to be remembered. Johnny was paranoid like that and she couldn’t blame him. The Cold War had made everyone jumpy. 

He was where he always was when she came home, sitting on the couch watching tv. She took off her shoes, put down her purse, and sat down next to him.

“How was your day?” Johnny asked her, like he always did. 

“Went to work, went to the cafe, talked to friends. Nothing new happened at all,” She shrugged. 

He smiled. “That’s how we want it to be right?”

She smiled back and him and laughed softly. He stayed quiet after that, he usually did, so it wasn’t a surprise to her. 

Her husband was a tall, intimidating man. He had dark hair and eyes so brown they were almost black. He always looked like he was caught in a deep thought, like he was reflecting on the meaning of life and in mid-thought he decided it was all for nothing. 

She was scared of him. She didn’t mean to be scared of him, but even when he was affectionate she was a little weary of him. It was an unnatural look on him. It wasn’t fair to him, her fear, but she felt in nonetheless, and she was sure he felt it. 

As she looked at him watch television, with his eyes shining, his smile easy and relaxed, and his features looking soft, she could feel her fear melting. But when turned to face to her and turned the television off, she felt the moment pass. 

“Time for bed,” he said reluctantly.  
She smiled gently and nodded. “I’m gonna shower, I’ll meet you there.”

He nodded and walked off into their bedroom. 

She came back to the sight of her husband reading the morning paper. She sat down on her side of the bed and looked over at what he was reading.

“What is the news saying?” she asked playfully.

“Same old, fear communism, the russians are everywhere nonsense,” he grumbled as he turned the page.

“Why’s it nonsense? The government says that communism spreads and that it-”

“Could get here,” he cut her off. “Communism is an ideal, it’s a way of life, a school of thought, it’s the same as capitalism and socialism. It’s not a big, bad, monster,” he explained. He took off his glasses, put down the newspaper and turned to look at her.

“Communism isn’t going to invade the United States with a couple russian spies telling people to become communists, they would invade, infiltrate the government and change it then, what’s happening right now is just, hysteria,” he said in a calm, teacherly manner.

“Oh,” she looked down, slightly embarrassed. “I mean, if the whole country is pro-communism, wouldn’t it be easier for the government to become communists.” He looked confused so sher continued. “You know, communists would run for office and then bam, sooner or later we live in communist US.”

He chuckled. “I guess you’re right. I still think the hysteria is useless. If there are commie spies in the US, they’d be living like us, not be running around looking evil.”

After that he stopped talking. They sat there in silence until a half hour later when he turned off the lights and announced his decision to go to sleep. So she slept too because what other choice did she have.


End file.
